


Invisible Chains

by Chrisx1987



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Ethics, Humans never went to Pegasus/Wraith landed on Earth AU, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:46:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrisx1987/pseuds/Chrisx1987
Summary: In the year of the Wraith Lords, five-thousand and twelve, humans have been divided into classes according to their use to society.The Alphas, naturally stronger, are the workers, the guards, law-enforcement.The Betas are divided. Selective breeding has granted the more intelligent ones to have the positions within government, science and development, while lower ones work in service positions. Others of lower intelligence are bred for food.Omegas are highly-prized as their natural fecundity has been found to be able to carry even Wraith offspring. As the Wraith who overthrew Ra lost their Queen when they crashed, they have been desperate to increase their numbers through the use of the human Omegas.However, none of these offspring ever produced hybrids from which to produce purer Wraith, as any female hybrids did not fit into the hierarchy to become Queen of the Hive...





	Invisible Chains

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one I had started last year and figured I should finally start posting.
> 
> This story, as tagged, has mildly dubious consent later on. You'll understand as the situation is explained by the characters pretty early on.

 

_In the year of the Wraith Lords, five-thousand and twelve, humans have been divided into classes according to their use to society._

_The Alphas, naturally stronger, are the workers, the guards, law-enforcement._

_The Betas are divided. Selective breeding has granted the more intelligent ones to have the positions within government, science and development, while lower ones work in service positions. Others of lower intelligence are bred for food._

_Omegas are highly-prized as their natural fecundity has been found to be able to carry even Wraith offspring. As the Wraith who overthrew Ra lost their Queen when they crashed, they have been desperate to increase their numbers through the use of the human Omegas._

_However, none of these offspring ever produced hybrids from which to produce purer Wraith, as any female hybrids did not fit into the hierarchy to become Queen of the Hive._

_Short-sightedness and over-eagerness early in the conquering of Earth has led Omegas to become a rare commodity. Any found are brought to breeding farms exclusive for Wraith use. As such, this has led to many who present as Omegas to be sold on the black market, sometimes by their families, others by opportunistic neighbours. Many families will try to hide their Omega offsrping, others offer them gladly to their local magistrate in exchange for favours, as a family who produces one Omega may be able to produce more, and are given living subsidies to ensure healthy offspring._

_Any humans found to be of little use to society, criminals, and the deathly ill are used as food for the Wraith Lords._

_Over the centuries, the offspring produced from Wraith males with human Omegas has brought forth a race who does not feed on humans; this, combined with the discovery of off-world human colonies through the Stargate has eliminated worry for a dwindling food source, as the original Wraith Lords were few in number to begin with._

* * *

"Are you sure you want this one?” Landry verified. “He’s stubborn, doesn’t take authority well. He’s got some smarts, but, still a pretty average Beta.”

The day’s strong wind caused the Wraith Lord’s long, white hair to ripple violently, occasionally needing to be brushed away from his pale green face.

“I hear he has strength to match an Alpha.” the Wraith Lord said.

“Oh, yeah, he throws a pretty fight, but I thought you wanted an assistant?”

“An assistant who cannot defend themselves is of no use to me.” he growled. “I need someone who can keep up with the work and not be a deadweight in battle; the Jaffa who seek to reclaim the territories of their Goa’uld masters are still a danger on off-world colonies.”

“Alright.” Landry said. “It’s not like I can refute your demand, even if I wanted to; be glad to be rid of him. Sheppard!” he yelled into the yard where several people, an assortment of male and female Alphas and male Betas were landscaping the terrain for a playing field for the school.

A male with short, brown hair, and a nicely chiseled face sporting a couple of days worth of stubble, put down his shovel and walked towards Landry and the Wraith Lord.

“Lord T’dakud has bought your community service contract. You’re going to work for him, now.”

Sheppard looked towards the Wraith Lord and narrowed his eyes, though the curve of his mouth bespoke amusement.

“Is that so?”

“Does this displease you?” Lord T’dakud challenged.

Sheppard shrugged.

“Maybe I like working outdoors.”

“You best learn to like what you can get, mister!” Landry barked. “One more strike with me and it’d been off-world mining for you!”

“At least I wouldn’t have to look at your ugly mug.” Sheppard countered, crossing his arms, cool as you please.

Lord T’dakud growled threateningly before Landry could respond, then stepped closer to Sheppard so that he was in his space.

“Does the prospect of off-world travel speak to you, Sheppard?”

“Maybe it does.”  he said, hint of a smirk as he looked into the Wraith Lord’s face, not even a hint of the fear the alien was accustomed to seeing around these parts, yet none of the reverence which replaced fear on the faces of worshippers.

“I travel off-world quite frequently.” T’dakud elaborated. “As my assistant, you would accompany me around the galaxy.”

Sheppard frowned. He’d expected further threats of the naquadah mines, not an attempt of making the position sound more appealing.

“I get a fancy suit?” Sheppard asked, eyeing the Wraith’s rich robes.

“Of course.” T’dakud affirmed. “It wouldn’t reflect well on me if you weren’t attired according to your station.”

Sheppard snorted.

“Alright, let’s go see some other planets.”

Landry held up an electronic pad to which Sheppard pressed his thumb, confirming the end of his position with the landscaping company, then did the same to a pad which the T’dakud held up, beginning his new position as the Wraith Lord’s assistant.

“Follow me, John Sheppard.”

John followed as they approached a car parked on the side of the street, black, sleek, and making John  _ itch _ with the desire to give it a try.

“Your first assignment, John Sheppard: my home’s location is programmed into the navigation. You drive.”

John reacted in time to the Wraith tossing him the ignition fob and climbed in the driver’s side while the Wraith climbed in the passenger side.

John had never seen a car so advanced, and T’dakud allowed him to toy around with the features before getting started.

After they had been driving for a while, the navigation guiding John along the correct route through the city, he asked:

“So, at what time do I show up every day?”

“You shall present yourself for breakfast at seven hundred hours throughout the week, during which we shall discuss the day’s itinerary. Saturdays are to be spent together so that we may have discussions or take part in leisure activities in order to know one another in an environment not professional; I believe this to be paramount to having a good working relationship, if we can know each other with our guards down. Sundays are yours as you please. This Saturday, I shall arrange for a van to help you move your things from your dwelling to mine. I shall be providing your new clothes for your position as my assistant, so three days without your things should not be an issue. However, if there is anything you absolutely require before Saturday, you may fetch it this evening.”

“Wait, so I’ll be living with you?” John asked.

“The attic of my home is large and has been renovated to be habitation instead of a storage space. It is yours to arrange as you wish.”

John nodded.

“Cool.”

_ That’s gonna make getting my meds either easier, because there will be less law patrols, or harder, because I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t ask or know about the deliveries. _

“Anyone else in the house?”

“It is a large space.” T’dakud said. “I share it with a hybrid and his human mate. They are also part of my team for off-world travels. There is also a cleaning service who comes three times a week, but you may tell them what you do not want disturbed in your quarters.”

“What is it that you do, exactly?”

“Negotiations with other societies. But I shall explain more when we arrive, after you have had time to, I believe the term is ‘freshen up’?”

“Okay.”

***

After John had showered (in his private bathroom! No more line-ups or having to use the place after someone else had dropped a doogie was a definite plus) and changed into some provided clothes (simple, loose pants and a top made of forest-green silk, clearly meant for casual times, but better quality than anything he had ever owned), he made his way back downstairs, where T’dakud was waiting.

“It is nearly time for the evening meal. We shall, the three of us, explain what your role here is to be.”

John followed to a spacious dining room, where a hybrid male and a human woman sat at an ornate wooden table. The hybrid had short hair gelled up, though still white, and his features were only slightly softer than T’dakud’s. He was clearly of the early generations of cross-breeding. The woman had a brown complexion, long, dark hair tied back simply.

“This is Michael and his mate, Teyla. John Sheppard, my new assistant.”

“Welcome to our unit, John.” Teyla said warmly, while Michael only gave a slight nod, but still with a pleasant expression.

T’dakud indicated for John to sit on the side opposite Michael and Teyla, while he sat at the head of the table.

“Before we explain our mission, John, tell me what you have been taught of the defeat of Ra.”

John arched an eyebrow.

“Ra was an alien parasite who possessed a human, who then enslaved humanity until the Wraith Lords descended and liberated us. Then you guys helped to structure our society so that we could reach our full potential.” he said this last with sarcasm.

“That is the basic which is taught to offspring.” Michael spoke. “What else have you learned?” 

“Something happened which led to your need for forceful breeding with our Omegas, and you keep them all for yourselves.” John said bitterly.

“Speak honestly.” T’dakud insisted. “What is it you have heard we do with Omegas?”

_ Do they know? Have they been setting me up? _

“You keep them locked up, constantly pregnant, until their bodies can’t take it and then you feed on them.” John blurted out, not bothering to keep the venom out of his voice.

T’dakud gave a short nod.

“This is how it was in the beginning.” he said. “Over time, the Omegas were given better treatments. Two-year breaks between offspring, allowed to stay on as matrons to help the younger ones instead of being fed upon, and much is done to ensure their happiness and good health.”

“Except freedom.” John pointed out.

“That, too, is beginning to change.” Michael said. “Omegas rescued from black-market brothels, after being tended to and allowed time to heal from their trauma, are given the choice to go to the colonies, or to serve as a Wraith’s personal mate. So far, this is allowed only among the Wraith Lords and first-generation hybrids, such as myself. Those that choose the colonies are not forced to bear offspring, and those that do are allowed to undergo artificial insemination breeding, due to the trauma they would have suffered in the brothels. They might go their whole lives without physically mating with anyone, only given access to machines which simulate the process during their heats. They are given time to heal and recuperate from any physical and psychological harm caused them by their time in the brothels, as the other Omegas fellowship to help integrate them into their new lives. Even those that mate with the Wraith Lords or hybrids may choose if they bear offspring or not, and how many.”

“Our work is, officially, off-world negotiations.” T’dakud said. “But we are part of a movement intending on changing the laws so that Omegas may be free members of society again. The days where we had hoped to produce a perfect race is long behind us, but the laws regarding Omegas never changed with it.”

“The trouble is, John,” Teyla spoke. “At this late stage in the game, Omegas are seen as commodities by humans, as well. Studies have been carried out, and even though there are people who want to see the colonies closed, the numbers of those who don’t truly see us as people are too high. The colonies are actually safe havens, now.”

“Wait, ‘us?’” John asked.

“I thought it was obvious from what Michael had said.” Teyla smiled. “I’m an Omega. I speak in solidarity with those I see as my brothers and sisters.”

_ An Omega, sitting at a table with a Wraith Lord and a hybrid, and allowed to talk. _ John mused, baffled, but also relieved that they didn’t seem to know about him.

“We try, sometimes.” Teyla said. “A social experiment, if you will. Once, it was I and two other Omegas walking down a very public street in broad daylight, no scent-blockers. We had guards, but they were scattered at a distance, trying to give the impression that we were without escort. As soon as one person realised we were Omegas, Alphas surrounded us. Some tried to help, but others attempted matings then and there. We all of us were trained in self-defense and kept them busy until the guards took over and escorted us to safety. We do this a few times a year, and always, invariably, as soon as the Omegas are discovered, they’re swarmed by Alphas. Unfortunately, this means that Omegas can’t walk safely down the street, and it’s other humans we have to fear.”

“And why are you choosing me to help with this?” John asked, still wary.

T’dakud smiled and nodded at Teyla. She pulled up a thick folder she had been holding on her lap, and placed it on the table in front of her.

“Fifteen different jobs from the time you were eighteen, and each one of them you were let go after one too many altercations with either clients or co-workers. And that’s not counting the fights you get into off the job. They each have in common that you came to the defense of someone who needed it, or threw a punch to someone who spoke disrespectfully of a person or a minority. In short, John, you care.”

“And you can defend yourself.” T’dakud added. “Later, you shall be trained in more precise fighting techniques, but, for now, it will do.”

“Expect many fights?” John asked.

“Not everyone appreciates our work.” Michael explained. “And sometimes our off-world business gets interrupted by members of the Lucian Alliance and Jaffa who are still loyal to their fallen Goa’uld masters. It’s not always very safe.”

“But we have yet to stay captive longer than ten hours,” Teyla said with a smile. “And that was only because they used a potent sleeping agent.”

Michael bared his teeth in a manner which John understood was a grin.

“Once you had your wits, though,” he said to Teyla, who turned to smile at him. “How quickly those rats fell.” He took her hand in his. “You would have been one hell of a queen.” he kissed her hand and she grinned back, pleased with the attention.

John swallowed, a bit uncomfortable with the display, as he wasn’t used to seeing such public displays of affection from Wraith, and definitely not with an Omega in the picture. T’dakud’s voice broke through the haze.

“There will be a briefing before each mission, first between us and then when we arrive at Stargate Command, General Hammond and Lord Stevannan will go over additional details. We are especially interested in gathering information from other cultures in how they treat Omegas, so that the positive models may be presented as encouragements to change things here.”

John swallowed.

“If so many see Omegas as property,” he began. “How can we change it? I’m all for trying, but… it sounds like it might take a long time.”

“And we will try for as long as it takes.” Teyla said simply. “Even if we do not see vast changes in our lifetime, it will be worth it for those that come after.”

John nodded.

“Alright, where do we start?”

***

John returned to his apartment that evening for a few things, including his meds. He made up an excuse of his place being a mess to keep T’dakud from following him inside, the Wraith Lord instead waiting in the car.

John kept checking outside, hoping against hope that his ‘pharmacist’ would walk by. He was hardly the only buyer on the block, though he was probably the only one who used his particular brand of pills. At last, he got lucky, and he spotted Tyrus’ familiar leather jacket. He sharply threw a crumpled ball of paper, which hit Tyrus right on the head. Tyrus looked up, and John motioned for him to climb the fire escape, which he did.

“Dangerous for me to be coming directly to your apartment.” Tyrus chided.

“Won’t be a problem.” John said. “I’m moving to a new area. Better job than I’ve ever had, and it’s a place with less crime, which means less patrols, so you should be able to get me my things more easily.”

“Where at?” Tyrus asked, and whistled when John gave him the address.

“Yeah, no worries. I do deliveries in that area all the time. Got me a respectable-looking truck with a uniform and everything. Just pretend you do online shopping.”

“Thanks, bud.” John told him.

“No sweat. How many doses you got?”

“Enough for two weeks.” John told him after counting the pills.

“Expect me on Monday of that week.” Tyrus told him. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, like always.”

John thanked him again, and slipped him what cash he had left on him, enough to cover the next delivery. Tyrus went back down the fire escape without another word.

John finished gathering his things, including toiletries, a couple of graphic novels, his mp3 player, and his laptop.

He’d managed to only keep Lord T’dakud waiting maybe half an hour, excusing that he managed to make the place less of a mess, which would be easier to pack come Saturday (not untrue, though it hadn’t taken the bulk of his time). The Wraith accepted this, and they returned to the large house.

***

John found he actually enjoyed working this new position. Even though he was labelled as T’dakud’s assistant, he was allowed to weigh in opinions and offer advice, and he felt like he was actually accomplishing things in his work, especially since the others always made sure he sounded like he was actually being listened to.

Some of the work was boring, as some of the off-world dignitaries were full of hot air, eager to talk of themselves and their own accomplishments, but T’dakud did well in picking up when John was getting bored and would ask him to check in with Stargate Command to inform them of their progress. There was a subtle word-play hidden in these orders, such as “be sure to be very detailed,” which basically meant “take your time to look around and talk to the locals.” It gave John something to do, and sometimes allowed for discoveries of things the people were keeping hidden from the team.

One time, John picked up on a strange sound, and when he followed it, discovered an encampment of Jaffa mobilizing in the woods near the parliament building; the sound he’d heard was target practice with staff weapons.

John returned to the meeting-room, rubbing at the centre of his forehead, grimacing like he was in pain.

“Are you alright, John?” Teyla asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” John said as he sat beside T’dakud. “I wanted a closer look at a cool-looking bird at the edge of the woods, and I ran right into a long branch. There was a knot in the branch where I hit it, got me right in the middle of my forehead.”

“You should be more careful.” T’dakud said. “I imagine there are many such branches in the woods.”

“Oh, lots.” John agreed. “By the way, General Hammond and Lord Se’tevan said there’s a situation that’s come up and to report back as soon as possible.”

T’dakud sighed.

“My apologies, gentlemen.” he turned to their hosts. “It seems we are being recalled.”

“That is a shame.” the planet’s leader agreed. “We’ll be in contact to continue these talks at a later date, then?”

“Most definitely. T’dakud inclined his head respectfully.

Once outside the building on their way back to the Stargate, T’dakud came to stand beside John instead of leading the procession.

“Which direction?”

“North-west, barely ten minutes.”

“And they are large in number?”

“I’d say nearly seventy.”

“That’s the largest assemblage we’ve ever encountered.” Michael observed.

“We’ll relay to Lord Se’tevan and General Hammond,” T’dakud said calmly. “Obviously, we’ll have to take precautions if we return, and not open the iris to anyone from here until we can be absolutely sure it’s not a trap. The people might not know the Jaffa are here, or they might be threatened, or allied.”

They returned to Stargate Command without incident. The next time they tried calling the people of that planet, however, they were met with a frightened warning to stay away.

“Can we help them?” John asked.

“A scout deployment will be sent to analyse the situation to see if we can.” T’dakud assured him. “If it’s believed to be within our means without too many lives lost, then ground troops will be sent.”

***

Teyla took up teaching John the basics of how to defend himself by using speed more than strength to his advantage. Every few weeks, T’dakud would test him. He improved steadily, but only rarely did he manage to overthrow the Wraith Lord.

“You’re still allowing your frustration to overcome you.” T’dakud told him after sending him crashing to the mats. “That is when you are more likely to fail.”

“Well, your smug face kinda pisses me off, ‘T’kakood’.” John countered even as the Wraith Lord extended a hand to help him up, which John took.

“You ‘piss me off’ when you butcher the pronunciation of my name.”

“Well, your name is a mouthful.” John said, though he looked apologetic.

T’dakud looked thoughtful.

“Michael’s true name is M’kanahal.” he said. “He began going by Michael when he discovered a letter written to him by his mother, which he had written before his death, but was lost for nearly a century. He said he bore no ill will to him, in spite of his conception, wished him all the best, and that if would have been able to have any influence in his upbringing, he would have named him Michael.”

John frowned.

“Is he your son?”

Todd scoffed.

“He might as well be, though I did not sire him. While a good number of us believed it our duty to raise our offspring so as not to forget the ways of our people, there were a few that were disgusted with the hybrids, believing them to be abominations, and took no part in their development.”

John frowned further.

“But they still mated with the Omegas?”

“‘To the victors go the spoils.’” T’dakud said darkly. “Merely a way of venting their frustrations. I do not consider myself blameless in how the Omegas in those early days were treated, but I have never found pleasure if my bed-mate had none. The act becomes hollow.”

John considered this as he sat on the bench and wiped the sweat from his face and chest with a towel.

“Other than wanting to increase your numbers, why did you do it? Against their will, I mean?”

T’dakud sat beside him, looking heavy with what he was about to say.

“We saw you as inferior. Do you ask the cow permission before having her artificially inseminated to produce a calf? Like with cows, most of us did try to ensure the good health and relaxed state of those we bedded, but we assumed you to have as much, or as little, understanding as cattle. Further study proved you had culture, and we gradually began to try understanding you better, while still keeping the Omegas away from society. The difference being that they were encouraged in artistic pursuits. Have you ever familiarised yourself with art, John Sheppard?”

“Not really my thing.” John admitted.

“Much of what you’ll find in museums and galleries is the work of Omegas, gifted to the world. There are even recordings of those who sing and play music. They are never able to perform a concert for the general public, but they can still contribute to the culture from which they were born.”

“But still treated like a harem, in the long run.” John pointed out.

“We tried to encourage better relations in that regard, too, over time.” T’dakud said. “A recently-presented Omega, for instance, would not be bred right away. They would be brought to the colonies and… courted, I believe is the accurate description. Educated, pampered, and socialised in more normal setting so they won’t find us too intimidating.”

“You groom them.” John said, still not happy with the idea.

“We do.” T’dakud admitted. “Even now, though we are more honest in everything, we still employ much of these methods, though they are given the option of not mating if they do not wish it.”

“And the ones who don’t care for the Omegas well-being?”

T’dakud’s gaze darkened.

“That is why, unfortunately, many brothels are able to escape our detection. They have the protection of the few who still do not respect humans as having understanding.”

“But you mean what you said when I first came here?” John verified. “That if you’re able to change the tide of people’s perception of Omegas, that they wouldn’t have to live in the breeding colonies anymore?”

“I did mean it, and will strive towards this changed perception so long as I exist.” T’dakud vowed. “Even now, the colonies try to prepare the Omegas for being in society, and they do come out in small groups to be able to experience it. Sometimes with scent-blockers with their escorts in civilian clothing to help keep them hidden, other times repeating the social experiment Teyla mentioned on your first day.”

“When do we get to use that information, by the way?”

T’dakud looked thoughtful.

“We are preparing to release a documentary of sorts, very soon. Footage from the social experiments, interviews with the ones involved as well as others who live in the colonies. Clips will first be released to news outlets, and we’re trying to open dialogue with the ones who cry for Omega freedom while simultaneously crying for the closing of the colonies. Michael also has footage he managed to obtain while going undercover at one of the brothels some years ago.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“The hardest part will be getting enough Wraith to admit we made a mistake when we first arrived by sequestering the Omegas in the first place. At the moment, the amount willing to do that is slightly under half, with the other half divided by those who simply want things to remain as they are with the improved living conditions, and the rest who don’t care for their well-being. They fear losing their authority if we admit we… I believe the human term is ‘fucked up.’”

“Will they try to stop the documentary from being released?”

“They won’t be able to.” T’dakud sounded quite assured. “We have enough support for that. And if they try, we have other methods, though I prefer they be a last resort.”

John nodded, and was silent for a moment.

“Can I call you Todd?”

T’dakud raised his brow.

“Pale guy I knew in high school.” John explained. “He had a cute butt.”

The Wraith grinned.

“Are you saying you like my posterior?”

John blushed, but tried to play it off.

“Maybe. Hard to tell with you wearing robes most of the time. And when we’re sparring you don’t turn your back.”

“Perhaps I should give you better opportunities for observation?” he teased.

John smacked his arm.

“Cut it out." he stood and went to stand in the centre of the room. "I wanna see if I can get you on the floor at least once, today.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, basically, the Wraith did stupid shit, so now Omegas are in a situation where their lives are not their own, at least, not in full. Having realised their mistake, a lot of the Wraith now aim to fix this, to restore balance to the population so that Omegas can reproduce with humans again, bringing their numbers back up. But, because of the warped perception the general population has of Omegas, well... not gonna be that easy.  
> In case it wasn't obvious, John is an Omega, using blockers to hide his presentation and avoid going into heat. The mildly-dubious consent is going to be when he and Todd eventually mate; but I'll explain that more when we get there. In short, John _is_ going to say yes, but the situation is fucked up.


End file.
